


today i woke up and everything was dead

by AceyEnn



Series: Served Promptly [3]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Apocalypse, Gen, Humanstuck, Mentions of Suicide, everyone is dead pretty much, except the ones who aren't
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-03
Updated: 2014-03-17
Packaged: 2018-01-03 08:38:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1068381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AceyEnn/pseuds/AceyEnn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A young woman steals a car so she can meet a boy she met online. Also, said boy might be the only other person alive on the planet. Survival ensues.</p><p>On hiatus for now, though there are plans and I hope to continue it someday!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: "AU where Aradia (and one or two others of your choosing if you so wish) are the remaining survivors of an apocalyptic event."
> 
> Fun fact: Aradia's general location is intended to be Canajoharie, New York, because it's a song by TMBG and I like it a lot and I kind of wanted an excuse to use it. Nashville isn't an _exact_ midpoint between Canajoharie and Houston by any means, but it's the only city I really know in Tennessee (which _is_ the closest midpoint given), so I figured I'd just use that.

Your name is Aradia Megido, and you think you might be the last living person on Earth.

  
It was quite an awful thing to process, really--your mom, lying dead in the kitchen of your small house, as if she'd been shot. Blood pooled around her body, seemingly from every orifice, making the entire room smell of metal and death. You frantically dialed 911, but no one answered, so you grabbed your keys and cell phone and wandered off to find help.

  
All you found were more corpses, just like your mother's. 

You didn't bother thinking after that, you just ran. You've been running for a while now, stopping only to eat or drink some purloined supplies from the corner store (hey, it's not stealing if no one else is alive), and you've frankly got no clue where you are. You're tired and upset and more than a little bit scared, and it's bitterly cold out, and finally you just fall to the snowy ground and cry. 

You've always been _fascinated_ by things like this. By death, by destruction, by the apocalypse. But you have no pretense of being able to function in a dead world. You're just a sixteen-year-old girl from a small New York village, and while your upbringing hasn't exactly been the cushiest, it also wasn't hard enough to prepare you for...well, for the death of everyone around you.

And then the truly unexpected happens: your cell phone vibrates.

  
You check it; it's a text message from one of your online friends. Dave, from Houston. And it's a lot shorter than his usual rambling texts.

  
TG: yo aradia everyone here is dead and im kind of flipping out how bout you

You text him back.

AA: everyone here is dead too  
AA: are you okay

He texts you back instantly, such a relief.

TG: well im alive if that counts

AA: it does

TG: okay well i guess ive got a sweet team together in case theres zombies or w/e  
TG: strider and megido  
TG: asskickers extraordinaire  
TG: all busting up the undead and sneaking around all cool  
TG: i have my sword i guess you could use a gun  
TG: yo aradia do you know how to shoot a gun  
TG: because i have a gun here  
TG: just kind of sitting here all menacing  
TG: begging to be shot 

His usual rambling is strangely comforting, even if it is about the reality of what's happened. There's only one problem, and that's distance. 

AA: thats cool and all but how am i supposed to acquire said gun if im nowhere near you

TG: you can drive right

AA: not very well but yeah i guess so!

TG: cool me too  
TG: meet me in nashville thats about halfway  
TG: seeya then

You don't know if you will, but you're going to try.

AA: seeya then


	2. Chapter 2

You've never actually been to Tennessee. In fact, you've barely been out of New York.

 

Of course, you've always _wanted_ to travel. It's just that you could never afford to. Your family was poor already, and paying for your older sister's frequent stints in the psych ward--and then her funeral when she died (suicide, hanged herself in her closet)--sapped much of what you had.

 

You miss Damara a lot. She was crazy, yeah, and she'd fucked up her life beyond repair by the time she died, but you did love her. Still do. You wonder what she'd think of the situation you're stuck in now.

 

You think she might find it funny.

 

After a bit of searching, you find a car, stopped dead in the street, the driver slumped dead in his seat. Perfect. It's a bit disgusting, having to haul his bloodied corpse out of the car (you find yourself desperately wishing for some sort of air freshener), but it works fine. And even better, there's an atlas in the passenger's seat. You're guessing he was a tourist--his license plate says he was from Georgia.

 

And then you're off.

 

You pass things that remind you of those you've lost in this awful, mysterious event. A skate park that seems to perfectly encompass Mituna and Latula, a veterinary hospital that brings Nepeta to mind, a vintage clothing store that reminds you of Kanaya and Porrim.

 

A video game store that makes you think of your boyfriend, Sollux. That one stings the most; you have to pull over for a bit to collect yourself. This is so very wrong, all of it.

 

None of these people deserved to die.

 

\---

 

You make it to Nashville eventually, well into the evening. Dave told you to meet him at the Parthenon, which is apparently a replica of the one in Greece, the _real_ one. You find it in short order, and wait.

 

(You try to ignore the corpses strewn around it.)


	3. Chapter 3

Dave looks exactly as apathetic in real life as he did in the ironically shitty selfies he sent you on a near-daily basis.

 

A lot of people thought he was your boyfriend from the way you texted, even though you and Sollux were an item before...well, before today. Before the apocalypse. Vriska was to blame for that, you'd wager. She'd seen you texting him and spread rumors about you cheating on Sollux with, in her words, “some douche in the South.”

 

It was all a lie, of course, and both of you knew that. You love--loved--Sollux. And while you love Dave as well, it's a different kind of love. He's almost like a brother to you, even though this is your first time meeting face-to-face. It's a complicated feeling, a complicated relationship, and you don't think there's a word in any human language to describe what you and Dave have.

 

“Sup,” he says, walking up to you. His tone is shaky--he's just as scared as you. Not that he'll ever admit it.

 

“The apocalypse, I guess,” you respond, shrugging. “Or something like that. My guess is as good as yours.”

 

“Well, my guess was going to be pretty much exactly what your guess was, so yeah, it is. Is that your car?”

 

You can't help but blush. “No. I stole it from a dead guy. It still smells like a corpse.”

 

“Oh sweet, fresh corpse smell, my favorite,” he deadpans. “Let's take mine, then.” He jerks his head in the direction of the car he came out of--a rusty-looking red compact. “Bit of a clunker, but it's mine. Let's go, Aradia--wait, what's your real name, anyway?”

 

“...Aradia Megido?”

 

“Bullshit.”

 

You sigh and dig your wallet out of your pocket, flashing Dave your driver's license. “My mom was pretty young when Damara and I were born, and she was going through this rebellious New Age phase when she had me, so she named me after this Italian witch goddess. And the second syllable is 'rah', not 'ray'. Everyone gets it wrong. Believe me, if I'd used a fake name it would've been something _normal._ ”

 

“So where'd the weird-ass last name come from?”

 

“It was my mom's last name, obviously.” You're getting nervous, being out here in the open surrounded by dead bodies. “Can we go now?”

 

“Sure thing.”

 

\---

 

After a bit of discussion, the two of you opt to head back to your hometown.

 

Dave's a pretty careless driver, and you feel the car go over more than a few bumps that you just _know_ were people at one point. The car smells like stale Doritos and spilled energy drinks, but it's better than the stench of decay in the other car (not _your_ car, you remind yourself), so you can't really complain about that.

 

You _can,_ however, complain about his taste in music.

 

“Can we listen to something that isn't an endless loop of that one Ke$ha song?”

 

“The first syllable is 'keh', not 'kay'. And the song is called Tik Tok. Have you been living under a rock, Aradia? Have you not fully experienced the pure orgasmic glory of Ke$ha?”

 

“I'm getting rather tired of it.”

 

“Impossible. One does not grow tired of Ke$ha. Accept Ke$ha into your heart.”

 

You can't help but smirk. “ _You're_ impossible.”

 

“Don't I know it.”

 

He doesn't change the song for the rest of the drive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I chose the pronunciation used for Aradia's name here based on the fact that my friend's given middle name is actually Aradia, and it's pronounced the way it is here. I tend to pronounce it with an "ay" sound myself, honestly.
> 
> (And no; despite being a Time player, Ke$ha did not survive the apocalypse. Sorry to disappoint.)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are some things you don't want to know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh look, I finally updated.
> 
> I've actually got a bigger plot in mind now! This chapter kind of kicks that off...you'll see why soon enough. ;)
> 
> (also there's a lot of shitty exposition here sorry)

"Nice house."

 

Despite yourself, you can't help but glare at Dave. There's very little nice about your house--it's a ramshackle little place, painted a hideous shade of lime green (you're so glad Kanaya never visited your place, she would've been  _ livid _ ), with only one bedroom.

 

It used to be a shared bedroom; you and your sister slept there, and your mom slept on the futon in the living room.

 

It hadn't been a shared room for a long time now.

 

You didn't look in the closet much. It was on Damara's side of the room, and you weren't quite curious enough about her belongings to look in there much. But you'd never seen the door wide open like it was that afternoon, the day she ended her life.

 

She'd told your mom she wasn't feeling well and would have to stay home from school, and you suppose she must've hanged herself in there when your mom was at work. You remember seeing her stocking feet dangling less than an inch above the ground when you looked inside, her body already stiff and her once-lovely face swollen and blue. 

 

You'd just about thrown up right then and there.

 

She'd left a note on your bed. You never really understood most of it. She mentioned her ex, and the bullying she'd endured at school, but there was more to it than that. 

 

You still have the note in your room, you think, and it suddenly dawns on you that you should check it out. Maybe there was something she knew.

 

Without saying another word to Dave, you drag him inside.

 

\---

 

Your mother's body still lies in the kitchen, so you just bring him straight to your bedroom. It looks exactly as it had less than a day ago.

 

A remnant, you think, of your previously mostly-normal life.

 

"Yo, 'Dia," Dave interjects, breaking the stifling silence. "What's with all the anime stuff? Didn't realize you were into shit like that. My bro kinda was. Oh hey, he told me about this one," he adds, pulling a DVD from the shelf on Damara's (untouched) side of the room. "Boku no Pico? Wow, she really was crazy."

 

"Never watched it."

 

"You don't want to, trust me. It's weird porn about little kids. Maybe she just had it for ironic purposes. I really hope she just had it for ironic purposes. Otherwise, that's fucking sick."

 

"Probably." You feel a bit uncomfortable, talking about her. Sure, she's why you're in this room right now, but it feels weird, speaking ill of the dead. You've always had a great respect for the dead and dying, a kinship of sorts, and you feel another damn pang of survivor's guilt.

 

You open your sock drawer. The note's still in there, you quickly find out, buried beneath a few pairs of silly kneesocks. You unfold it, and read.

 

_ "Hey, sis. I'm sorry about this whole thing. I know it'll hurt you and Mom, and I wish I cared more about that. I do love you both. I want you to know that. _

 

_ "I guess it all started with Meenah and Rufioh and Horuss and all that. You know that whole story--the bullying, the cheating, the breakup, all of it. Shit, how could you  _ not  _ know? It was practically all I talked about for so long. But now that I am, presumably, deceased, you have a right to know the full story. _

 

_ "I doubt you know who Caliborn is. He's...well, he  _ was _ a friend, of sorts. More of a boyfriend, really. We mostly hung out with Kurloz and Meulin--you know them. There was some fucked up shit there, but I guess I was so desperate to have friends that I went along with it. I'm not sure how much of their rhetoric I believed, but it was probably a bit too much. Or, perhaps, not enough. _

 

_ "Things went south. Really south. He got really abusive, and when I told him I was leaving him, he threatened to curse me. How was I supposed to believe that bullshit, Aradia? Curses aren't real, right? _

 

_ "But I think he was telling the truth. I've been tormented by these terrible visions lately. I don't know if they're hallucinations or not, but they won't go away. They won't fucking leave, Aradia, unless I  _ make _ them leave. _

 

_ "I doubt I'll ever be happy again. I don't feel safe. I just want out. _

 

_ "I'm so sorry. Goodbye." _

 

And, underneath that, in hastily scribbled text:

 

_ "High school senior Damara Megido chooses death." _

 

You're snapped out of your reverie by a familiar voice. "Yo, what were you reading?"

 

You shove the letter into Dave's hands. You feel like vomiting again, and so you open the window, puking out onto the snow below.

 

And then you see them.

 

Three people.

 

Three survivors.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> no prize for finding the blatant ace attorney reference

**Author's Note:**

> As a heads-up, I'm kind of writing this by the seat of my pants HAHA OOPS.


End file.
